Entry tags:

Daycycle 124 [January 29 - February 4]

daycycle 124

[Jan 29 - Feb 4]

[OOC Plotting for this Dacycle can be found here.]

Early Morning [0800 - 0900] — All Troubleshooters Report for Duty

No Specials will be selected for a mission today.

Morning & Afternoon [0900 - 1600] — Service Firm Positions
All Troubleshooters not assigned a mission should report to their Service Firm for their daily duties.

At 0900, Allison Argent will be reassigned to Armed Forces' Very Special Forces firm under Steve Rogers.

At 1300, VIOLET judge Bethany Abbott will be discovered dead in her chambers. Her death will ultimately be ruled murder by poisonous gas. Mind Control will immediately begin running coverage on her accomplishments, including the controversial decision less than a week ago to drop the treason charges against Oliver Queen and Parker and return them to Alpha. Once again, the letters "MOD" will be found at the crime scene. This time carved across Abbott's desk underneath her slumped body.

Gracie Cannell will be pulled from her blog to cover the breaking news due to her Special status.
News of the murder will spread like wildfire across Alpha, inciting fear in higher clearance citizens because VIOLET citizens were believed to be untouchable. In lower clearance citizens, the event will be enough to get ASS vocal again. Within hours there will be anti-special messages spray painted across Alpha.

Evening [1600 - 2200] — Citizen Improvement
All Alpha citizens are encouraged to better themselves through Alpha’s wide variety of educational, entertainment and cultural opportunities offered each evening. Attending these sanctioned events are not mandatory, but is highly encouraged by The Computer. Citizens choosing not to take advantage of these opportunities, have a growing number of other options available to them in how to spend their hard earned credits and free time.

Tonight’s event will be at 1800 in the Wagon Wheel, floor 25, Room H and will be held by the Extreme Ironing Club. This group is for those Alpha citizens who can't get their uniforms wrinkle-free enough. (Though anyone who may attend this incredibly boring sounding meeting, will actually find an established Free Enterprise dice game in progress instead.)

During the dinner rush, at 1900 a group of twenty ASS members in masks and armed with steel bars will form a brief demonstration in the Commissary in which they chant "Down with Specials." If there happens to be any Specials present in the Commissary at that time, they will attack them with malice.

Alpha Curfew Restrictions
All Alpha citizens should be in their quarters within the Wagon Wheel by 2200, unless they’ve been given permission from a GREEN or higher clearance level citizen. Sleeping Aid gas is dispelled each night in the Wagon Wheel at 2200 to assist citizens in getting a productive sleeping period.

Confession Booths
There are hundreds of confession booths available around Alpha Complex if a citizen would like to communicate directly with the computer. Please use these confession booths to report mission statuses, report treason or terrorist acts, unregistered mutants, confess your trespasses against Alpha Complex, request propaganda or speak with Your Friend, The Computer, at any time.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Generally Tony isn't the type to go to the Commissary for dinner. Not only because the food is awful, or because he's able to just coast without eating until the next morning, but mainly it's because he keeps himself busy enough that he hardly notices he missed a meal until it's too late. Which, really, isn't that big of a deal to him. For as long as he can remember, he has always let his work consume him more to the point that he lets his body forget about the fact that it needs nourishment, and apparently being in this place hasn't changed that at all.

Except, tonight is different. After spending his whole day basically working nonstop, first in True Alpha and then in the lab in HQ, by dinner time he actually needs something considering he has hardly eaten. If he were home this wouldn't be a problem, because he would just reach into one of his desk drawers for some of the snacks that he has hidden throughout his lab, but here... Well. It's bad enough he hardly had anything to eat at breakfast, after not bothering with dinner last night. Now his PDC is telling him that it's dinner time, and holy shit, where did the day go?

The moment he steps into the Commissary, though, his thoughts derail from food pretty damn fast. There aren't a lot of people in their demonstration, but their chants are loud enough to make him pay attention. His eyes scan the room - not for an exit, but trying to see who's here. Who he needs to push out the door before things go to hell, because he's paranoid enough to believe that they would go to shit, and--

Sure enough, he's right. It happens almost too suddenly; a fight breaks out, and Tony is quick to move towards it as he tells everyone he passes by to get the hell out of there. Maybe he should be following them out of the Commissary, because he's obviously one of the people the masked group is here to rally against, but Tony doesn't care. He may not have his suit here, but when has that ever stopped him? People need to get to safety, and he'd be damned if he were to ever run and hide somewhere. He belongs here, in the thick of it. Suit or not, no matter how stupid it is.

Especially because he doesn't even have the prototype gun he has been working on. Both his prototype and the one he's building for Lydia are charging in his lab, and he knows he'll have to make due with whatever he can find. Which, right now, it's a discarded tray that he picks up as he walks.

He doesn't get a chance to break the fight, because suddenly something hits him along his back with enough force to make him feel as if the wind gets knocked out of him for a moment. He still doesn't run, though; if anything, he's quick to turn around, trying to disarm his attacker. The tray comes in handy as he uses it as a shield, and when he manages to knock the pipe out of the other man's hand, Tony swings a punch. He was never trained by SHIELD, or a soldier, but Tony has gotten into enough brawls throughout his life (along with Happy's training) to be able to know how to handle a fistfight just fine. He takes some punches right back, but that's okay. He doesn't even mind it because, if anything, getting to punch his attacker is apparently more cathartic than he could have expected. It's wrong, probably, to feel relief at the fact that he's able to punch the shit out of someone - and even getting punched right back - but it feels good to get some frustration out even if his anger is towards the Computer.

Well, and maybe some of his anger is towards these people, too. Because why the hell do they keep targeting them? They haven't done a damn thing.

Just as he thinks he has gained the upper hand, someone is suddenly behind him, pressing the pipe against his neck in an attempt to choke him. Tony tries to fight against it, tries to wiggle his way out as best as he can, but they only pull tighter still as little dots of light begin to cloud his vision.

Seeing Gracie’s broadcast is what propels Steve towards the Commissary that night. He isn’t anywhere near the Commissary, so he misses a lot — including who dealt the first blow. But given what he’d seen on video, Steve doesn’t suspect that it was a Special.

When he gets to the Wagon Wheel, the elevators are slowed to a crawl as Alpha citizens are desperately trying to leave the 15th floor. Stairs. But there’s plenty of people in the stairwells too, all filing down and Steve can barely make any headway pushing against the human tide. At one point, he gives up taking the actual stairs and launches himself into the empty space between the railings and looks up. The crowd is thinner at the top. There’s a moment where he considers the consequences of what he’s about to do, but at the same time, Steve knows that showing this kind of physical capability could be chalked up to discipline and training — and not that he has his strength back.

Alright. With one more glance upwards, Steve positions his feet in sturdy nooks before he swings his arms back for momentum and jumps up to the next floor, hands gripping the metal bars tight as he pulls himself upward. One down, fourteen more floors to go. Around when he gets to floor eight however, he doesn’t have to jump anymore. Most of the Alphas are on the lower floors and whoever is still coming down from the Commissary doesn’t block his way up the stairs.

It’s when he finally pushes open the door to Floor 15 however, that Steve really takes in the chaos that’s erupted here. There are more Specials than he’d hoped, but each one is fighting his or her own battle — and winning, more often than not, against the masked A.S.S. members with pipes in their hands. Immediately, he begins to escort what remaining civilians are still around off the floor, protecting who he can in the process.

Only half a minute goes by before he spots Tony in the distance, suit-less, looking like he just landed a punch on someone and has taken a few of his own. It’s not that Steve expects Tony to have re-built one of his suits here — he knows that’s not possible in the short term — but seeing Tony fight without one worries him in a way that Steve couldn’t have predicted. Maybe it’s because of what’s going on between them now, but his heart suddenly feels so-

He doesn’t have time to figure the rest of it out. Whoever Tony just punched has a pipe around his neck and is using it to choke him.

When Steve survey’s his surroundings, it’s done quickly and with tactical precision. He sees a glass bottle one table down from him just as he sees an incoming plastic try aimed straight for his head. So Steve ducks, jumps and tumbles, all in one continuous motion to avoid the pipe, to grab the bottle, and to roll himself back up into standing position on top of the table so he can get a clearer shot.

The force at which he throws the bottle — straight for the head of Tony’s captor — is controlled, but just barely. In the end, despite how much he wants to hurt someone for hurting Tony, Steve is still only willing to injure, not kill.

Tony doesn't see Steve throwing the bottle, but he hears the hit and immediately feels the way the hold loosens enough to let him break away. Considering his lung capacity is already shit as it is thanks to the arc reactor, it feels like he can't catch his breath fast enough, but the commotion around him reminds him that he doesn't have the luxury of waiting around. He has to focus before somebody else comes along, and as he straightens he notices Steve. It's impossible to miss him, considering his physique and just the way that it's impossible for Tony to ever not notice him, but he just tries to give the most encouraging look that he can. Because, just how Tony worries about Steve, he knows that Steve worries about him, too, but...just like Steve, he can't turn away. He can't just leave and let others handle this.

That is why, although he makes eye contact with him, it doesn't last very long. Out of his peripherals he can see someone else rushing towards him, and Tony's attention immediately shifts. Without hesitating or waiting it out, he uses the shell of the gun that they're given to block the pipe the masked man swings at him. Once Tony is successful at pushing it away, he tries to whack him with it, and glances over at Steve to make sure he's doing alright.

Which, well, of course he is. He knows this. It's Steve, after all. He could probably take down the whole bunch of attackers in five minutes flat, but Tony likes this better. To fight along with him; to be his partner in this, too. It makes him remember the old times, whenever they would go on missions together, and they were a force to be reckoned with.

Together, he had once said, and Tony is pretty damn glad that they're back to fighting on the same side all over again.

They only get a moment. One moment to lock eyes and to communicate what they both already know to be true — that neither of them planned on leaving until everyone was safe. One moment for Tony to give him that encouraging look, and for Steve to give him a nod in return, one that says I’ve got your back.

But then just like that, it’s over. He spots a pipe being swung at his legs and Steve rolls off the table and into the crowd. Off the floor, he manages to grab a plastic tray, and as he tests how much tension it can handle, he’s rewarded with the knowledge that it feels quite sturdy. It’s good enough to use as a shield, or a blunt object. So when the A.S.S. member catches up with him, Steve uses it to block the first swing before he turns the tray horizontal and smashes one end into the man’s stomach — knocking the wind out of his chest. But Steve doesn’t stop there. He drives it into him again, in the exact same spot because he knows it will hurt twice as much, and the man loses his balance and falls onto the floor.

“Stay down.”

One warning, it’s all he gets before Steve turns to look back in search of Tony.

If twenty A.S.S. members in masks and steel pipes locked themselves in an elevator with him, yes, Steve could take them all out in five minutes flat. Especially now that he has his serum back. But this is different. There are dozens of civilians still caught in the chaos, not to mention at least half a dozen Specials being targeted around them. Forty-five degrees to the left of Tony, Steve spots something dangerous, and his hand immediately whips the tray around and re-grips it to be flush against the bottom of his forearm. He’s done this with his shield thousands of times, and even if he has to adjust for a rectangular shape …

Steve runs two or three feet before he jumps again, turning himself in mid-air so the tray can have that much more velocity before he releases it towards a group of masked attackers cornering someone. But this is plastic, not vibrainium. The tray doesn’t bounce or boomerang back to him. It does however, manage to seriously injure one person and get the attention of the rest. In fact, when four A.S.S. members turn around to see what just hit them, they not only spot Steve, but they spot Tony as well, and it’s obvious.

In a way, it feels a little like being in the street in front of Grand Central again. Except unlike New York, Tony doesn’t have his suit, and as impressed (and proud) as Steve is at how well Tony’s been doing so far, his next move is to close the gap between them, and fast.

Because Steve can pretend all he wants that no one’s life is worth more than someone else’s. That if all things were equal, he’d care about everybody exactly the same. But it’s just not true. Tony isn’t just another person, or just another member of the team — he hasn’t been either of those things for a long time, even if Steve had felt it through a difference perspective in the past. In many ways, that terrifies him, but especially now and especially here. Once his enemies know, they may very well try to use Tony against him, and if he’s truly honest with himself, Steve knows that from here on out, even if he doesn’t listen, a part of his heart will always be asking him to considering Tony first, over the safety of others.

In one of those moments where Tony glances towards Steve, he catches the way that he jumps, and he feels his lips quirk into a smirk. It doesn't even surprise him anymore to see him do moves like that; he doubts it will ever stop being impressive, but it has definitely stopped being surprising by this point.

And, honestly, that's another thing that feels...comforting, in a way. It's probably strange to feel comfort out of fighting, but he does. Maybe it's not comfort, exactly, but it's familiarity, and he likes having that sensation back. Of trusting Steve of having his back, of fighting together, of doing this as a team.

It's one of the reasons why he's so determined to keep fighting, suit or not. He uses whatever he can reach - chairs, pipes, trays - and doesn't hesitate to swing punches as needed. He doesn't have the serum that Steve has, but Tony has a tendency to never say die when it comes to situations like these. It had been one of those things that Howard always hated about him, because there had been plenty of PR emergencies where he had to hide the fact that his son had been caught in a bar fight. Again.

This isn't exactly a bar fight, but Tony treats it as one, anyway. And it's wrong, probably, to have some fun with looking at it like that, but whatever. Fighting along with Steve, and fighting to defend those around here, is like old times, and he has no regrets about it, especially when he manages to lay someone flat after he lands a punch.

His sense of victory doesn't last long, though. As he starts to turn, a pipe lands a hit against his side from one of the attackers, and it feels like someone is stabbing him with a hot poker. There's a moment where his knees feel a little wobbly from the pain, especially since a broken rib along with the pain from the arc reactor feels like it's overwhelming, but instead of letting it knock him out, Tony presses his arm inwards to trap the pipe as best as he can. It makes him grunt as he grits his teeth together, but he doesn't want the bastard that hit him to pull away, and he headbutts him before he can go anywhere. It's probably not the best idea, to hit himself in the process, but he's pissed enough at this point to not even care about that.

Steve still remembers that day in Manhattan when mid-fight, Tony had turned to him with his gauntlet raised. Steve had known exactly what to do.

Compared to how far they’ve come, back then, well, they'd barely known each other. But that day, without any planning or even eye contact (which is impossible for Steve to establish by the way, if Tony's inside his suit), Steve knew to lift his shield and tilt the surface to redirect an incoming sustained repulsor blast. They barely thought. They just did. And trusted. Steve trusted Tony wasn't going to hit him by accident, just as Tony trusted Steve to reflect the blast away from him.

Saving the world, ultimately, is what had brought them then together, and after New York and Sokovia, it had become their shared life experience. Which is why Siberia, and all that time Steve had spent fighting against Tony ... it still weighs on him more days than not, because Steve knows he'd still make all the same choices except one. But given how he feels about Tony now, he knows how much harder it would be, and how much more it would hurt both of them.

Which is why now, it's so much harder for Steve to see Tony get hurt. Surely, after all the things Steve had put him through, Tony had reached his quota. Because he’s running towards Tony, he sees the pipe come down on Tony’s side, but there’s nothing for Steve to throw that would make a difference. But he’s almost there. In fact, in three more seconds he is there, and Steve doesn’t hesitate to lasso his arm around the attacker’s neck, putting him in a chokehold and pulling him away from Tony.

“Easy,” he says, almost to both of them. To the man losing his breath, it’s a threat. But to Tony, it’s to let him know that he’s finally here.

The A.S.S. member lets go of the pipe almost immediately and his hands fling up to claw at Steve’s arm. But once he’s sure the man is no longer tangled up with Tony, Steve flips and slams the assailant into the ground. Even he’s still conscious after that, the man isn’t going to be getting up anytime soon.

But this isn’t over. There’s four more guys coming and Steve sure as hell doesn’t plan on letting any of them bash a pipe into Tony. “You doin’ alright?” he asks, as he unlocks his own firearm out of its holster and hands it to Tony. Steve doesn’t like to use guns, but that doesn’t mean Tony can’t bring a gun to a pipe fight. He doesn’t say that it’s loaded with six laser shots — there’s no time and Tony probably already knows. Instead, as soon as Tony takes the weapon, Steve kicks up a tray from the floor and catches it in his hand. Then he takes one step forward and stands at the ready, shielding them both.

When Steve inevitably goes barging forward to meet their attackers, he trusts Tony to find the right targets. He always does.

There's a moment, as Steve slams the man onto the ground, that Tony tries to take a breath again and his knees almost buckle in again. That's the first sign that he gets that the hit had managed to break something. With the weight of the arc reactor, and the way that it's drilled into his sternum, the broken rib feels like it's stabbing him internally and he already knows he won't be able to fight the way he had been.

And it's frustrating beyond belief, but there's not much he can do. It's even especially frustrating because he doesn't want to leave Steve hanging, he doesn't want to leave him on his own even if he knows damn well that he'd be fine on his own. They're fighting together, after all; the fact that that got taken away from him is infuriating in its own way, and it's what makes him nod towards Steve as he tries to keep his expression neutral. He doesn't want to lie to him, mainly because he can't demand honesty from him if he himself isn't giving it, but at the same time he doesn't want him to bench him or tell him to leave. Because, let's face it, there's no damn way that Tony would allow either one.

"I'm fine," he breathes out, managing to not wrap his arm around his side as if to protect it from any further hits that may come form the A.S.S members coming their way. But, then Steve is handing him his gun, and Tony blinks up at him.

With one look, that's all he needs. People don't know how good of a shot he is, because Tony doesn't go around showing off about it, but considering the family business, and the fact that he built weapons since he was a teenager... He wouldn't just build them, he also liked to test them himself. He didn't care for others to do it, which is why every handgun and firearm that he built, he would test until it was right. It was his job, after all, to make sure it was perfect. Now, with Steve's gun, there's a look in his eyes that show no hesitancy at the fact that he knows what he has to do.

That is why, as he turns towards the masked people, he shoots first at a random spot. It may seem like it's a misfire, like maybe he didn't aim properly, but it's actually his attempt to see the range of the shot. He doesn't know this weapon by heart, after all; this is his way to make sure that he won't be wasting any shots. And, sure enough, as the masked assailants rush towards them, Tony barely blinks before he shoots at each of them. He's not aiming to kill, because that's not what this is and he just can't bring himself to do that, but this is more than just a warning to them. He shoots at a kneecap each, trying to immobilize them sufficiently so that they won't be able to get up and keep terrorizing people. Because, let's face it. If he would have shot their shoulder or even their side, they could have kept moving. This, now, it's his attempt to stop them from being able to get up properly and, when another one tries, he uses the last shot to shoot at his other kneecap. He may not be able to fight with a busted rib, but he'd be damned if he doesn't do whatever he can to stop them from hurting Steve, and everyone else.

He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to; the look on his face says it all. Stay down. It's moments like these, where his anger spills over, that he's more like Howard than he would ever wish to admit, but right now... Well. He's protecting others. He's doing it to stop them - and yes, partially out of anger because one of them stopped him - so he really doesn't have any qualms to spill some blood over that. It's not something he's proud of, but at the same time, it's not something he can apologize for, either.

Steve doesn’t hide the fact that when he passes Tony his gun, he noticeably studies Tony’s side, trying to gauge how serious his injury might be from a momentary glance. But when he looks back up and sees that look in Tony’s eyes, the one that says he’s ready to keep fighting, it’s all Steve needs to know. They’ve all been to battle. Steve knows that injuries aren’t enough to pull someone out of a fight, especially if they don’t want to leave.

The attackers are almost here — the Commissary is a big place, after all, and it’s still booming with chaos. Instinctively, Steve lowers himself a little, so that he doesn’t block Tony’s field of vision as his eyes glance from one assailant to the next. He’s making tactical decisions, one after the other about how to proceed, how to make sure that none of them are able to make it past him to Tony when-

Tony takes his first shot, and it hits a table in the distance. He doesn’t have time to react or analyze it before he hears the rest of the shots pulsing out of the barrel like clockwork, and one by one the men who are running towards them start to fall at the knees. One tries to get up and Steve hears one last shot before yeah, none of them are trying to get up anymore.

That’s the first time that Steve looks back at Tony, his own expression a reflection of the pride that he’d first had on his face when he got here and saw Tony holding his own. He’d expected Tony to be good, but not that level of good, and he’s about to say something when Steve sees the anger. It’s brewing hot, and Steve’s eyes narrow in concern before he turns back to the four men laying on the floor and walks over.

He kicks their weapons away from them, even if they all clearly don’t look like they can use them anymore, and carefully, Steve leans down to pull off their masks and uses the elastic to bind their hands. He’ll remember their faces from now on, but in the end, they’re mostly men in their thirties and forties. But the last one, the one Tony shot twice, the one who was healthy enough to try and get up after one knee cap was hit, looked just like a kid. Probably eighteen.

There’s no doubt that they yell things at both of them, but Steve doesn’t seem to respond to any of it. Instead, he takes out his PDC and makes sure that IntSec is on its way to make the arrests and that Medical knows to expect incoming. Tomorrow, he’ll file a report to Armed Forces to account for the shots taken from his handgun.

After hearing the laser shots however, the rest of the action in the Commissary seems to die down as well. A.S.S. knows that they have a disadvantage and whoever is left, maybe just a straggler or two, is retreating. That’s when Steve comes back to Tony, the tray he’d been holding before long forgotten on the ground. Without saying anything, he ducks himself under one of Tony’s arms, so he can use him as support.

“How bad is it? Should I take you to Medical?”

Tony recognizes the glance that Steve gives towards his side for what it is, and he knows he's worried, but he doesn't bring attention to it. Right now they have a job to do, and there's no point in focusing on what they can't fix. His broken ribs and the fact that Tony won't leave for anything are two things that won't change no matter what, so as far as he's concerned, there's no point in even addressing it.

Thankfully, the adrenaline helps him forget about it even if it's temporarily. Or maybe it's the way the anger just pulses through him, making him forget about what he's feeling. Either way, as he aims, his hold on the gun doesn't falter. He's as steady as ever, and even once they're all down, he doesn't seem to relax. He may be out of shots, but he's ready to use the gun and pistol whip whoever he needs to in order to get his point across.

It doesn't come to that, though, and Steve is quick to move in and handcuff them. In the meantime, Tony's eyes scan the area, making sure that no one is going to pop out of nowhere and hurt him, but it seems like the commotion is dying down everywhere else.

It's until then that he begins the feel the pain again, but he still doesn't let go of the gun. There's a cut on his lip from a punch he had taken before Steve had arrived, and later he's sure his body will remind him that maybe fighting without a suit isn't a good idea, but... All in all, it's not so bad, right? They're still standing, that has to count for something.

Suddenly Steve is ducking under his arm, and for the first time the cold anger in his eyes goes away as his expression begins to soften at the edges. "No, not necessary. I think he broke a rib or two, but it'll be fine."

There's nothing they can do for him, anyway. This is not the first time he has dealt with broken ribs, especially with the arc reactor wedged into his sternum, and considering this place he doubts it'll be the last. Besides, with their healing rate here, he knows it won't last as long as it would back home. That's why he tries to be as reassuring as possible as he looks up at Steve. "Really. I'm okay."

It's that anger he saw in Tony's expression earlier that stops Steve from pushing when he normally would have insisted they go to Medical. Broken ribs can take a month or two to heal, but Steve is willing to bet that Medical could take care of something like this in 20 minutes. He doesn't know that for sure, but given the other Medical marvels he's seen here, he wouldn't be surprised.

But still, whatever just happened, he can tell that Tony's going through something more than just the physical pain, so yeah, okay. He won't insist today.

"Alright." He slips the gun out of Tony's hand then, and puts it back into his holster. "Come on. I've got ice back in my apartment."

He also knows that Tony's going to ache in the morning once all the adrenaline truly wears off. If Steve can get Tony to go back to his place, then at least Tony can sleep in a bed all by himself and not have anyone disturbing him. And in the morning, Steve will cook him something piping hot to help warm him up.

And yeah, technically speaking, they were also supposed to have their first real date tonight. But given everything, Steve's pushed that to the back of his head. Now that the fighting's over, and he sees the other Specials in the room taking care of each other, his focus is completely on making sure that Tony's gets everything he needs to heal.

There's a moment where Tony wonders if Steve will insist on taking him to Medical Services, but thankfully that never comes. His shoulders seem to relax slightly as soon as Steve says 'alright,' and then it's Tony's turn to nod in agreement when Steve suggests going to his apartment.

"...do you have to stay here? If you do, I can just go back to my place instead."

Not that he wants that at all. Hell, Tony himself had been looking forward to their dinner tonight, so he wants to spend time with Steve. But, at the same time, he knows Steve's sense of duty. He knows that he feels the need to take care of everyone, and he would understand it if he needs to be here. Because, well, Tony may act like he thinks very highly of himself, but he doesn't expect Steve to drop whatever he needs to do tonight in order to take care of him.

At the same time, though, if Steve begins walking them back to his apartment, he's ready to start walking. He may be trying to be noble about this whole thing, but at the same time, if Steve insists on going back to his place... Well. He's selfish enough to follow and be with Steve wherever.

“I’ve called Internal Security. They’ll handle it. But- give me a moment?”

It’s more politics than he’s comfortable playing, but in the normal world, Steve believes strongly in a division between the police and the military. This kind of attack on Specials is something that should be dealt with by the police. It’s never a good thing to mix the two, and he’s realized he’s been too liberal in trying to make a military platoon do the same job as a police force.

Especially since the assassination, Steve’s been rocked by how much he no longer trusts his own sector, so comparatively, he’s been trying to figure out how corrupted IntSec is on the inside. Calling them in to handle this situation takes him a step closer to that goal.

But Steve does just need a moment, just to check in with a few of the Specials who are still left to make sure they’re all right. When he leaves Tony alone though, he makes sure he has a place to lean or sit first with a good vantage point, and only then does he carefully slide himself out from beneath Tony’s arm.

“I’ll be right back.”

And he does come back fairly soon. Tony would be able to see him going up to a few people, but within five minutes, Steve returns. By then, some IntSec agents have arrived as well, including another GREEN officer who’s clearly looking to see if Steve is here when he arrives. But even if they do see each other, Steve doesn’t make any motions to go speak to him.

On their way up in the elevator, after Steve pushes the button to his floor, just one floor down, he gives Tony a light grin.

“I never knew you could shoot like that.”

"Yeah, that's fine."

He's even about to offer that he could walk off to sit on his own, but Steve is too much of a gentleman for that. He's already helping him to go to a spot where he could lean, and Tony gives a quiet thanks.

As Steve goes off to work, Tony watches him for a moment before using his fingers to try and figure out where the pain on his side is stemming from. Sure enough, he can feel the inflammation even trough the jumpsuit, and yeah. He really had broken something. His neck feels sore, too, from where the pipe had been pressed so he could suffocate, but at worst it'll be a bruise tomorrow. It's definitely something he has dealt with before, so why worry?

Leaning his head against the wall, he watches the rest of the Commissary, taking in the remnants of the fight. Before he can push himself off the wall to at least walk around, though, suddenly Steve is coming back and Tony follows him towards the elevator.

And...that's definitely not what he expects to hear once the door closes, and Tony's lips quirk slightly. "It's...not something I really share a lot. But I learned to shoot after I started building handguns. Figured I couldn't sell them if I didn't know how well they actually worked."

If Tony looks like he could benefit from alleviating some weight from the bruised side of his ribs, Steve would wrap Tony’s arm around his shoulders again, just to give him something to lean on as they make their way to the elevator. But if he looks like he’d rather manage on his own, Steve will stay alongside him as Tonys walk on his own for the rest of the distance — they’ve certainly seen worse than this, and they don’t have a long way to go. GREEN is only one floor down.

In the elevator, what Tony says makes sense, especially since Steve’s seen firsthand how much Tony likes to throw himself into his work. And it's not like Steve could ever forget that Stark Industries built its empire on weapons manufacturing. But Tony had gone through so much, and what Steve knew about Afghanistan he’d read from a file or saw in the footage Fury gave him as background. By the time Steve actually woke up from the ice and was recruited into the Avengers — by the time he actually met Tony for the first time — Stark Industries had already changed. To Steve, it’s focus on renewable energy and countless other projects were the norm.

But right, weapons. Tony had grown up designing and selling weapons, and of course he’d learned how to shoot.

“Not everyone who learns how to shoot could’ve done what you did back there,” he says gently, because the elevator opens again, and he starts to guide Tony out. The door to his apartment is just down the hall. Steve knows he’s got two first-aid packs stored away, and he’s already making plans to get one out as soon as he can get Tony through the door and seated on his couch.

From the Commissary to the elevator, Tony's able to walk as normal as possible even if now that the adrenaline is wearing off, he's finding himself having a hard time even just inhaling as he breathes. Once the door closes, he leans against the wall almost casually, but there's a brief moment as he talks where his hand reaches up to his chest, almost as if adjusting the arc reactor - or trying to, anyway - in an attempt to ease the pressure he's feeling, but it doesn't last for long. It's quick, and it's done almost without him noticing. When he does realize what he's doing, he just goes back to his 'relaxed' stance as he speaks.

"I built a lot of weapons," he explains with a small shrug, even if there's a moment where there's shame in his eyes as he says that. Because that time in his life is tainted thanks to Obadiah and his stay in Afghanistan, and... Well. He had raked in a lot of money thanks to his deathly inventions.

"I was a teenager when I built my first one. Quality control was a big thing - I was the...number one weapons manufacturer for the army. I had to make sure they worked." A beat. "I don't like it, honestly. Using guns? I can build one, no problem, and shoot it. But I prefer the blasts my suit can do over bullets."

Which is why his suit doesn't have that as a default and let's Rhodey handle that kind of thing. Tony's more into blasts and explosions.

When the door is open for them to get out, Tony pushes himself off the wall as his arm tries to subtly cradle his side as discretely as possible, but Steve catches that and in no time he's wrapping his arm around his shoulders to ease the weight off his side. Which Tony appreciates but, not wanting to feel like a burden, he smiles faintly over at him. "It's okay, it's not that bad."

I don’t like it, honestly. As Tony keeps going, Steve actually gives him a surprised look — he had no idea. He’s noticed, certainly, that the suits have blasts instead of bullets, but he’d always imagined that for someone like Tony, who took so much pride in all his work, the fact that he doesn’t like using guns- Well, it’s a surprise.

But what feels even more unexpected, is how something like an attack on the Specials, could lead him to find out something he and Tony had in common.

“I don’t like using ‘em either.”

Maybe it’s not surprising for anyone else to hear him say that, but Steve still feels like he’s sharing something personal. Even if there are still black and white film strips out there — Howard probably kept a lot of them — that depict him with a gun in hand, jumping off the back of a jeep. Even if he’s stormed into a base, gun blazing. Because that’s how wars were fought in WWII. But ever since Steve learned how to fight with a shield, using anything else feels wrong. After all, for Steve, the whole point of fighting is to defend those who can’t defend themselves.

Steve isn’t sure exactly how much Tony’s injury hurts at the moment, but the fact that Tony’s trying to play it down gives him a clue. So as he begins to guide them down the hall, and Tony makes that comment, Steve just smiles back at him.

“Yeah?” The way his eyebrows are lifted tells Tony that he doesn’t believe him, but instead of calling him out on it, Steve’s going with another strategy. “Well- What if I just kinda like havin’ your arm around me?”

It’s funny how, if all he was doing was flirting, Steve would never be able to get that sentence out. But when it’s to help someone? All the rules start to change.

Tony catches the surprised look, but he gives a small smile - one that should accompany a shrug, as if to say 'yeah, well, surprise.' Mainly because he knows the irony behind it, of being a weapons manufacturer - of being as good and as well known as he used to be - but he hadn't really liked firearms. The thing is, in the grand scheme of things, he had just been good at it. Really good. He did it to get the job done, to carry on the legacy he had been expected to uphold, and to do it as well as he could.

But then Steve is admitting that he himself doesn't like them either, and Tony's smile becomes more relaxed. Less awkward from his own admittance. "I used to wonder about that, actually."

It's said quietly, almost as if it's another admittance. And, heh, it is. Steve doesn't know how long Tony admired Captain America, doesn't know how closely he watched those film strips when he was a little boy, but...it's really not a lie. Even from the time they worked together, he did wonder about that; Tony could build weapons for his team all he wanted, but Steve was generally prone to use his shield instead.

As they walk over to his apartment, and Steve gives him that look, Tony almost narrows his eyes at him. But then he says something so completely unexpected, and he can't help but huff out a quiet chuckle, even if his breathing hitches by the end of it. "That's... I guess I can't argue much with that."

He's tempted to lean over to kiss his cheek, but they're suddenly at Steve's door, and he's letting them inside. Tony almost assures him again that it's okay, he can walk in on his own, but Steve is guiding him to the couch and, before he sits, he 'steals' a quick kiss. "...I hadn't done that tonight yet," he explains with a smile.

“I always thought you kinda suspected,” he says, giving a quiet chuckle. “I think after the third or fourth attempt at making me something new, you stopped showing me anything unless it was for the shield.”

Steve remembers at the beginning that Tony had made all sorts of weapons for them, including improvements on their current gear, but also new weapons that could adapt to the way they fought. And yet, the only thing that had ever interested Steve were improvements to his interactions with the shield. The ability to call it back to his arm was game-changing. So was the moment he could snap it onto the harness onto the back of his uniform. But the final magnetic locks Tony had built him after Sokovia to replace the hand holds — that was an improvement he didn’t even think was possible. It made the vibranium feel like a natural extension of his arm.

Even before they got here, Steve really did appreciate everything Tony had done for him.

When Tony laughs a little and acquiesces to letting Steve help carry some of the weight, he smiles. “Well alright then.” Soon enough, Steve’s pressing the electronic card to his door and it unlocks. He pushes the door in for both of them and by the time he gets Tony to the couch, Steve is already planning to get the first aid kit when he feels Tony kiss him. It a pleasant surprise, but it happens too fast, and Steve doesn’t get a chance to properly kiss Tony back. So before he leaves to grab the kit, Steve sits down briefly, right next to Tony before he leans in for something deeper. When he’s kissing Tony, a stray thought passes through his mind: they’ve never actually kissed here before, in Steve’s apartment. He’d always come down to visit Tony in RED.

But the kiss is limited to just one. He’s not about to start making out when he wants to see how bad the injury is. Just in case there’s something that broke skin, or if there’s obvious internal bleeding, Steve wants to know.

“I’m gonna go get a first aid kit from the bathroom. I bought two a few months ago, they should still be good. In the meantime, can you unzip and take off your shirt? I wanna see how it looks.”

Tony remembers those days, too, and he gives a nod as the look on his face becomes more fond than anything. Because, yes, he had suspected that before; whenever he would build something with Steve in mind, but he never seemed very interested in it. It's good to know his suspicions were right, though, and he can't help but smile a little brighter because of it.

After the quick peck that Tony had given Steve's lips, he hadn't really been expecting anything else after that. But then he's sitting down next to him, and he's kissing him, and for the first time tonight he manages to relax. It even feels as if his breathing comes a little easier, and it's a wonder that Tony doesn't pull Steve back in for another kiss. He wants to tell him that everything else could wait, that he was fine, but it all ends too quickly and Steve is getting back up again.

And...he's asking him to unzip and take off his shirt. Somehow he manages to not choke at the surprise, but he grins. "You know, I didn't think I'd be undressing for you so soon after we started seeing each other..."

Not that it would be a new concept for him. Tony generally doesn't wait this long to sleep with someone while dating them, but with Steve it's a whole different ballgame. Not that he minds it - they both need time, each for their own reasons - but he still can't help the teasing tone in his voice.

The playfulness disappears pretty quickly, though, when he realizes what taking his shirt off will mean. It will mean Steve seeing the scars from the bombing, the arc reactor, the remnants of old injuries from back home. That's on top of whatever other markings he might have been left with during the fight, and Tony is suddenly tempted to just get up and find a way to distract Steve. Somehow. Maybe if he just starts kissing him, that will just make him forget about the first aid kit?

But, he knows the answer to that before he even stands, so he doesn't. With a sigh under his breath, after some hesitation that he tries to not show, he unzips the top part of the jumpsuit and carefully takes it off down to his waist. Pulling his arms out of the sleeves already tells him that taking off his shirt will be a bitch to deal with, but after sucking in a breath, he forces himself through it. There's a bruise forming on his lower back, where a pipe had hit him in the beginning of the fight, but the most obvious one is the one on his side. There's some inflammation as well, but at least he wouldn't require stitches for anything. Which is probably a good thing, considering the scars that are already scattered along his chest. There are markings from where the shrapnel had torn through his skin along his chest and shoulders during the bombing. And, as if that wasn't enough, there were the marks from back home - the old gunshot wound on his left shoulder from his escape from the cave Afghanistan; an old scar that looks like something stabbed him deep runs along his side, almost down to his hip and, while he can't see it from this angle, he knows exactly where there's another scar on the back of his right shoulder blade, making almost an indentation where a small piece of skin never quite returned properly.

Of course, the one he hates the most is the big glowing circle that is embedded in the middle of his chest. He shifts awkwardly in his spot, ready to put his shirt back on again, but Steve is suddenly walking back into the room and he lets out a small sigh under his breath as he looks down at his shirt. Mainly because, if he does so, maybe he won't see Steve's reaction to seeing him for the first time.

"...it's not that bad. I don't think you need the...first aid kit." Can I put my shirt back on now?

Steve can sense the way Tony’s body seems to let some of the tension go when he kisses him, and it’s a good feeling. It nearly makes him not want to get up again, but Steve knows they’ll be time for that later. So he breaks away and asks Tony to take off his shirt. When he hears Tony say undressing for you so soon however, Steve’s lips part and his eyes get just a little bigger, like he’s about to insist for the sake of his honor that this is for wound-inspection only, but in the end, he just lets out a breath, smiles as he glances down, and shakes his head. When he looks back up, he gives Tony another kiss on the cheek before he stands and disappears down the hall and into the bathroom.

When he comes back, Steve’s got one of his first aid kits in his hands, as well as one of his own white cotton shirts.

Oh Tony.

His forehead furrows in concern as Steve takes it all in, his eyes running over Tony’s body as his feet carry him around the coffee table and he kneels down next to Tony’s legs.

He notices the arc reactor because it’s impossible not too see it, but the growing worry on his face is from the scars. Everywhere he looks, there’s one more, and every time he finds the next one, he feels a bigger and bigger pain in his chest, and soon, Steve’s knuckles are starting to turn white from how hard he’s holding onto the shirt in his hand.

Steve couldn’t have predicted how much it’s hurting him to see the way the shrapnel markings are littered across Tony’s chest and shoulders. But he knows that’s only the tip of the iceberg — the freshest layer on top of layers of pain and suffering from years past, and as his eyes pass over the gunshot wound and that long scar along Tony’s side, Steve …

He tries hard not to look like he wants to stand guard between Tony and the world for the rest of time.

As his eyes fall back onto the bruising, he focuses though, knowing that there’s still a few things he can do now, to help ease the pain. Tony’s right, in that they don’t need the first aid kit, so Steve sets it down on the table.

“Here,” he finally says, his grip finally loosening on the shirt in his hands as he offers it to Tony. “I brought you one of my shirts. It should be big on you, so it’ll be easier to get on and off.”

Steve stands again though, that look of concern never really leaving his eyes, before he turns and walks the few feet between the couch and the kitchen. He seems to just stare motionless at his cabinets for a moment before he opens one and pulls out a box of ReadyRice (the Alpha brand of instant grains, probably) and throws it into his freezer. He’ll need the rice to make a better ice pack later, but he knows he also needs to make something that he can use right now. So from the freezer, Steve pulls out a half dozen heirloom tomatoes, each one frosty and frozen solid. They’re part of what he’d planned for dinner tonight, but right now, they have a more important job to do.

When he comes back to Tony, Steve got them wrapped up tight inside a clean dishtowel, and offers it to Tony before kneeling down next to him again. With both the towel and a shirt in between Tony’s skin on the tomatoes, the makeshift ice pack should be cold but not uncomfortable against Tony’s side.

“How does it feel when you breathe?” Is anything pressed up against an organ?

He shouldn't enjoy making Steve flustered over the tease of his shirt, but he does. Not maliciously, but just because Steve gets that look on his face that makes him want to kiss him all over again, and thankfully he's leaning in for another kiss before he needs to ask him to.

That playfulness is gone from Tony's features, though, by the time Steve is back. The old scars had already been enough, but with the ones from the bombing... Well. Those are new enough to make them more obvious - or at least that's how it feels, although that might also be because of how much he hates them - and Tony just looks at anywhere but Steve when he's back in the room. Because, god, he looks hideous. Steve is quite literally the definition of perfection, and here he is. With his chest all marked, and the glowing thing in his chest essentially attracting attention now that it's in full display.

It's not until Steve offers him his shirt that Tony speaks again, a quiet thanks although he doesn't quite move just yet, and he also doesn't really make eye contact. It's not until Steve goes into the kitchen that Tony moves again, pulling the shirt on as carefully as possible even if he has to bite back a groan when he makes a movement that's apparently too quick. He almost stands again, ready to make some sort of distracting conversation, but suddenly Steve is back and offering him an ice pack of sorts.

"Thanks," he repeats, and carefully presses the towel against his side. "It... I mean, it hurts, but it's not a big deal." I'm used to it, he almost says as well, but. "It's fine, really. This is helping."

“Good.”

The word is short, and Steve nods as he sets his hands on Tony’s knee, squeezing it gently as he looks up at him. He’s noticed the way Tony’s been avoiding looking at him, like he’s scared to see his reaction. For a moment, Steve considers not asking about it and distracting Tony with dinner instead, but … in a way, he has to. He can’t see a situation and not address it.

“Hey,” he starts, as he moves himself up onto the couch, back to where he'd been when they'd kissed. “Tony, what’s wrong?”

There's a moment, no matter how brief, that Tony had hoped that they could just move past all this without addressing any of it, but... Well. Steve asks that question, and honestly it's not surprising at all.

"Nothing," he assures him and even tries to smile at him, even if he can tell by Steve's expression that he's not being very convincing. Shifting slightly in his seat, he forces down a sigh. "Nothing, it's...I know it looks pretty awful. All of this," he motions to his chest uncomfortably, once again his eyes focusing on anything other than Steve for a moment.

"You know, I used to have no problem taking off my shirt before." There's a small wry smirk as he speaks. "Now, though, it's... I guess I'm not used to it anymore."

There had been one scar in particular, near the bottom of the arc reactor, that Steve hadn’t been able to place. It hadn’t been a gunshot, and it had been closer to a stab wound, but the healing doesn’t match exactly. He still wonders where that’s from.

But Tony’s assurance really isn’t convincing at all, and then he seems uncomfortable even talking about it — and Steve still can’t quite put it together. To him, the scars don’t make Tony ugly, or hideous. They make him strong. So in Steve’s mind, the only reason that Tony could be this uncomfortable, is if he’s embarrassed that he’d gotten those scars in the first place. But that doesn’t feel right either. Tony’s a proud person, but he’s not so proud that he thinks he’s untouchable.

It’s … difficult, how little sense Steve can make out of this, and Tony’s still not looking at him.

“Yeah?” he asks, when Tony says that about his shirts, and a for a moment, he plays along. “Well, I think I’d get jealous, if you really had no problems taking off your shirt.”

But soon enough, that playfulness eases into gentleness, and Steve lifts his hand to slide up against Tony’s cheek. Lightly, he guides Tony back to him, and leans in for a soft kiss. It’s much more chaste than what they’ve gotten used to, especially after what Tony’s showed him, but it’s mean to help soothe Tony more than distract him.

Even when Steve pulls back, he doesn’t go far. Instead, he just leans himself into Tony’s shoulder, and let’s Tony do the same. Together, they make a little arch with, but the important part to Steve is that a position like this still lets them be close, but it doesn’t force any eye contact from Tony.

“Why is it hard to look at me?” he finally asks.

Tony's lips twitch into a small smile when Steve plays along and mentions that he would get jealous of him taking off his shirt without a problem. The gentleness that Steve is using with him isn't something he's entirely used to, but it's a pleasant surprise. It makes something inside him relax a little, to the point that by the time that Steve is kissing him, his shoulders relax a little all over again.

But then Steve asks that impossible question, and Tony breathes out a sort of sigh under his breath. It hurts to do it, because there's a twinge of pain immediately as he breathes out, but it comes out almost before he can stop himself from doing so.

"It looks...awful." Hideous, he means to say, but apparently even that word alone is hard to get out. "The bomb left a lot of recent scarring that I'm still trying to get used to, I guess. Including the reactor. Then you add everything else, and it..." He pauses for a moment before shrugging very slightly, and continuing a lot more quietly than how he had been speaking, "I thought it'd...scare you or something."

Or at least cause some sort of pity look that Tony cannot possibly deal with. Because, while he's not fond of his scars, he doesn't want pity for them, either.

daycycle 124

[Jan 29 - Feb 4]

Tony Stark ; Evening, Closed to Steve

why pull ups are important

omg steve you show off

look it's like an action pirouette

it's a beautiful sight to see

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject